#and i got my final reference for my fall birding job application today!!!!!!

[starbuck]

second night of Murder Mystery DONE all went well i am FREEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!

[thisisamadhouse]

OQ Prompt Party Sunday

For the final day of @oqpromptparty here is my 7th contribution. This one is the first part of my second chapter for Join us in the shadows my DOQ Mafia AU. Hopefully I can post the whole thing later today or tomorrow. This is a response to prompt #56. One is a killer/Criminal the other one is trying to catch him/her.

Regina Mills has always been a light sleeper. She guesses it comes from her upbringing, it wasn’t rare to have strange visitors showing up at all hours of the night at the Mills Manor, and, more often than not, Regina’s eyes would pop open and she would strain her ears to catch snippets of conversations between her parents and their latest guest.

So when either of her lovers so much as shifts, she feels it and her peaceful slumber becomes a distant memory. Out of the two, it usually is Robin, Mal only needs some body heat to fall into a 7 to 8-hours coma.

He stirs some more, and she feels the chest she uses as a pillow expand as he sighs.

“You’re thinking again,” she whispers, mindful of the still blissfully unaware blonde on his other side.

His breath catches as he realizes she is awake, and despite her closed eyes, Regina can clearly picture him wincing in apology.

“I’m sorry, my mind just won’t shut down tonight,” he murmurs, drawing random patterns along her satin covered side with the tips of his fingers, making her shiver pleasantly.

“What is it?” She asks, tilting her head back slightly, and finally opening her eyes to study him.

“Sometimes I wonder how I ended up being so lucky, and I’m afraid to wake up one day and find out it was all a dream,” he replies, and he looks so positively stricken by the mere idea that the snort she was about to let out at his cheesy words dies down in her throat.

“What on Earth made you think about this at two a.m?” She wonders, bewildered, bringing her hand from its resting place above his heart to cup his jaw and turn his head towards her.

“I think about it most nights to be quite honest,” he admits, smiling wistfully at her, and she is taken aback.

“You never said anything,” she breathes out, her thumb gently stroking his cheek, enjoying the way his stubble grazes her skin as he nuzzles into her touch. He normally prefers to be clean-shaven, but sometimes they are able to convince him to indulge them.

“I was afraid to jinx it. After all why would two bold, stunning women like you keep a lowly thief like me around?” He looks down at himself with a vague gesture of his hand, his face twisting in a grimace. “Especially given how I found myself involved with you.”

He believes it, Regina thinks, startled, he really believes he is not good enough.

“Probably because, most days, you’re the one person able to keep us sane. I don’t know if you realized it but, before you came along, our moral compass had been pretty much thrown out the window,” she tells him lightly, hoping that some humour will help get him out of this funk, though the events she refers to, when he started working for them, are anything but humorous.

She knows he can’t have forgotten the smell of burned flesh and the dying screams as he had stood by after they had doused Sydney with gasoline, her former closest associate who had betrayed them when he couldn’t cope with the fact that Mal had supplanted him by Regina’s side. Unable to endure his pathetic excuses, Regina had thrown a lighted match in the barrel herself and walked away, never looking back.

Two birds with one stone, they call it: they had sent a message reminding everyone what was the price to pay for talking too much, while testing their newest recruit. Robin had passed with flying colors, his composure impressing them, and he had waited until they were in private to wonder if there may be less drastic ways to proceed in the future. The only thing that had stopped them from lashing out was the fact that there wasn’t any trace of judgement in his voice, just genuine curiosity.

“Of course, Mal would manage to bring home the only noble thief out there,” Regina chuckles softly, shaking her head with a fond expression.

“I don’t know about noble, but I’m certainly glad she did,” he counters, pressing his lips against Regina’s forehead, his gaze suddenly far away as he remembers.

A dear friend, the brother he never really had, begging for help to settle a huge debt, a series of burglaries and larcenies in an otherwise trouble-free, extremely wealthy community, an unrelenting sheriff, and Robin had found himself locked up. He had pleaded guilty, and had received a rather mild sentence, since he had no priors and had kept nothing for himself.

His wife, Marian, had never forgiven him the shame he had brought on his family though. She had divorced him a few months into his four-years sentence, deemed him unfit to be in their son’s life, fought for sole custody with no visitations rights, and won. By the time Robin got out, she had been long gone, taking not just Roland with her, his precious boy who would never know him, but also Keith Nottingham, the Sheriff who had arrested Robin.

She had packed his stuff in his car and into a garage, the key and address to which Robin got from his lawyer. Going through what was left of his possessions, Robin found an old map, closed his eyes and randomly pointed at a spot: the coast of Maine. With no clue as to where he could find his son, a fresh start where no one knew him seemed like the best option.

So, in his beat-up car, with a few clothes and whatever mementos he couldn’t stand to sell, he slowly made his way from Chicago to the East Coast, trying to enjoy his newfound freedom, finding little jobs here and there to pay for food, motel rooms and gaz. When he finally arrived in Storybrooke, he found a quaint little town, where everyone knew everyone, but asked few questions. He helped out at the local diner, Granny’s, in exchange for a room at the adjacent Bed & Breakfast, the no-nonsense, eponymous owner having a soft spot for his dimples.

He thought that he could finally breathe, but luck had not been on his side for a long time now, and he found the local sheriff waiting for him in this room one morning after breakfast. Before he could ask how the man had entered, he let him know in no uncertain terms that he knew all him.

“You see I have been appointed here to put an end to the criminal activities plaguing the county and which seems to originate from this town,” Sheriff Graham revealed, and Robin couldn’t help his raised eyebrows and the way he looked around the tranquil B&B.

“Don’t let appearances fool you, Mr Locksley. There is evil rooted deep in Storybrooke, and I want to purge it, but I can’t do it alone, believe me I tried. You are just the kind of person I need for the job,” the man explained, and Robin appraised him silently for long moments before wondering:

“If you are asking someone like me for help, I guess that this is dangerous, what could possibly motivate me?”

Graham obviously expected the question, though he huffed and clenched his teeth at the idea that Robin would not just jump at the opportunity to help the Police.

“As I said, I know all there is to know about you, if you assist me, I could help you find your son,” he bargained, and Robin immediately straightened up.

“You know where Roland is?”

“It would be easy for me to find out.”

Robin looked at the man intently, looking for any sign of deception, and the Sheriff held his gaze, unflinching.

“Alright, I will do it,” Robin finally acquiesced.

“Perfect, I don’t want to share many details just yet, I only have strong suspicions at this point, could never prove anything, so I think it’s better to work our way up. One thing I do know is that the local cab company seems to be at the center of it all, it would be a good start to find yourself a job there. I will send you a burner phone to contact me, the less we are seen together, the better.”

Robin sent an application, and not long after John, the owner of the cab company, offered him a job.

Given the trust the man was placing in him, Robin felt obligated to reveal some of his history, but John only laughed, and that probably should have worried him more that it did. The man said that he believed in second chances, and Robin was only too happy to be given a chance. He hoped that it would bring him closer to getting help to find Roland.

The first few weeks, it was pretty simple, transporting people coming and going to the airport mostly, a few packages to fetch or drop, always with the strict instruction to not open. They didn’t need bother, Robin had learned in prison how aggressive people could become if you touched their stuff, and he knew better. The Sheriff was pretty interested in the drop-offs, and he asked details about the people he transported. Robin had taken the habit to stash a notebook in his glove box to keep track of all those informations.

He got used to some kind of routine, until one morning when John gave him a special assignment: to pick up a special customer from the airport. She had had to let go of her usual driver, and John was hoping she would use their services from then on.

He gave Robin a sign with the name “Mal Drachen” written on it, and sent him on his way. Robin wasn’t sure what to expect, since he had no idea who to look for, but the tall, blonde woman in a stylish grey pantsuit and matching fedora, meaning business, certainly wasn’t it. She headed straight towards him, looked him up and down, eyes lingering long enough in some places to have him start to feel insecure and wanting to fidget, only to conclude with a “you’ll do”, and preceded him towards the car, her suitcase rolling behind her, leaving him barely a few seconds to recover from his shock before he had to follow.

By the time he had loaded her luggage in the trunk and started the car, she was already on the phone, and Robin understood very quickly that she was no ordinary client, and exactly why John had chosen him specifically. He made his way towards Storybrooke, knowing better than to disturb her to ask for the address, it could wait.

“I’m on my way home, I just got your message, what happened?” He heard her say, keeping his eyes firmly on the road. A pause as she listened intently to her interlocutor’s reply, and then: “He did what?” Her voice became low and deadly cold, it sent an unpleasant shiver running along Robin’s spine.

“This can’t go on, you tried to let him down gently, and it’s obviously not working. He needs to be dealt with… permanently, and the sooner, the better,” she continued, and Robin forced himself not to react. There was only so many ways to interpret this conversation, and he wasn’t sure that he liked where this was going. Could it be that easy? Could he have found an actual lead so quickly?

“Of course, I’m right,” she said, after another pause. “I’ll be there soon, we’ll determine the best course of action then,” and she hung up.

A silence, and then: “I must admit that I’m rather impressed with your self-control. Usually, by this point, after such a conversation, people tend to sweat and look around for the best way to flee,” she remarked, and he looked in the rear-view mirror and caught her eyes for a second before focusing back on the road.

“Well,” he shrugged. “I make it a point to respect my client’s privacy, and I didn’t hear anything that could give me reasons to worry about my safety. Two very good incentives to keep driving,” he looked up again, and saw her smirk.

“I can see why Sheriff Graham was so eager to have you on his side, Mr Locksley,” that made Robin’s blood run cold. “I hope that we can make a competitive offer for your services,” she continued, and the vice like sensation around his heart relaxed slightly.

“How do you know…” He started, before she cut him off.

“You will realise that we know everything that happens in Storybrooke, we are well established, and people around here trust us more than they do some Sheriff thinking they are God’s gift sent to save us all, until their bosses understand that they are no better than the one before and replace them,” she told him, and well he could see her point, he had found Graham to be more than a little arrogant since their first meeting.

“What do you want from me?” He asked.

“Only that you listen to what we have to say, give us a chance to present you with some options,” she replied, and Robin gulped.

“Options?”

“Let’s wait until we are in a more comfortable setting. 108 Mifflin Street will do nicely, I trust you can find it.”

He knew the address, had passed by it several times since his arrival.

The rest of the drive was quiet, her passenger was relaxed in the backseat, while he tightened his grip on the wheel until his knuckles turned white with each mile that brought them closer to their destination.

He took a deep breath after parking the car in front of the rather impressive mansion, and exited from it to open the back door for his client. He gave her the suitcase and followed her inside.

He was surprised to find a small crowd milling about, going from one room to another, some carrying packages, others on their phones or computers, exchanging papers or a few words, in what had looked like a well practiced dance.

Each of them stopped what they were doing when they saw Mal, saluting her as she led Robin towards the back of the house. She knocked once on the door, and entered without waiting for a reply. She closed the door of what Robin quickly realised was a large study and walked to the imposing wooden desk behind which another woman had been working.

She straightened up at their entrance, and Robin’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of her. Mal Drachen had certainly been a vision, but this woman… she was truly delectable. It was the first time in years that he had such a reaction to a woman.

“Robin Locksley...” Mal introduced. “...meet Regina Mills.”

TBC...

[swimmingwolf59]

On a Raven’s Black Wing

(A/N) Yo yo yo, I’m writing a multichapter pynch fic on my AO3 and thought I’d post it here as well! :’) There are references to Adam’s abuse, but nothing that’s worse than canon. Hope you enjoy! 

Adam has seen a lot of strange things working at the Henrietta pet store, but this is the first time a customer’s walked in with a raven.

It’s an excruciatingly slow day. Adam had been up until three in the morning working on college essays, AP history essays, and studying for physics, and he’d already had an early shift at Boyd’s and a full day of classes before he came here. He’s exhausted down to his bones, and it’s hard to even stand upright as the minutes stretch into hours of not a single soul coming into the store. Henrietta is small so the store is hardly busy even on a good day, but it’s been a long time since utterly no one has come in. It’s hard to stay motivated, even if this little hole-in-the-wall pet store is one of his favorite places.

Adam gets along superbly with animals; he probably gets along better with dogs than he’ll ever get along with humans. Dogs had been his only lifetime companions back when he’d still lived at the trailer park, and he’d gone outside often to play with them and avoid his father’s rage for as long as he could. The dogs were always happy to see him, snuffling happily as their tails wagged and wagged, piling over Adam in hopes he’d have food with him. He never did, but they didn’t seem to mind; they just loved getting attention more than anything really, and Adam loved them for it. They never cared that he was poor or that he hadn’t eaten since the day before because his dad spent all of their money on booze or that he went out to greet them with a new bruise or cracked rib. It was the closest Adam had ever come to receiving any kind of love, and he’d cherished it.

Landing the job at the pet store had been easy. After he’d moved out of his parents’ trailer for good and took residence in the small apartment above St. Agnes, he’d met Blue while she was on a dog-walking job. The two had become fast friends, and soon enough Adam was joining her on her dog-walks. Apparently the owner of the pet store, a nice old woman with the ironic name of Mrs. Calico, had noticed Adam and how well he got along with animals on one of the days he was helping Blue, and when he’d by chance called her about her help wanted sign she’d enthusiastically given him the job, no interview required. It had been baffling to Adam at the time, and he felt a little like he didn’t deserve it, but when he walked in on his first day and got along immediately with all of the animals in the store it felt a little bit more like coming home.

He spends hours at the pet store even when he isn’t working, using the space in the back to study or help out Mrs. Calico because he likes to and deep down feels like he still owes her for all of her way too generous help. Mainly, though, he’s there for the animals: their company and unique scents always comfort him in a way that nothing else could. He isn’t necessarily happy, but it’s something.

And though he only receives minimum wage, slowly he’s saving enough to get into a good college and get the hell out of Henrietta.

There are times, though, when the monotony of his life strikes him and he can’t fight the scratchy feeling in his throat that he’s just wasting his time sitting around waiting for something to happen. He tells himself he’s working towards it, that he just needs to be patient, but on days like today it’s hard to be optimistic, even with the animals around.

He’s already cleaned out the ferrets’ and rabbits’ pens, fed the fish and turtles, played with the mice, taught the parrots some new words, and restocked the barn animal supplies, meaning he has nothing else to do but wait around for someone to come in. Usually he spends his time entertaining the lizards, but the sun isn’t low enough for any of them to have exited their slumber yet, so Adam is stuck waiting at the cashier counter.

He’s bored, a little lonely, and badly in need of coffee. It’s hard enough working three jobs (if one counted the occasional dog-walking) and going to his shitty high school all the time even without worrying about staying awake. Usually Blue bounces in at some point with the dogs, painfully reminding him that he doesn’t have as much time for them anymore, to bring him some concoction from 300 Fox Way and chat with him for a while to keep his spirits up, but even she’s strangely absent today.  

Leaning his forearms on the counter, Adam lets his head rest down for a moment. It’s taking all of his energy just to keep his eyes open, and he wonders if it would really be such a bad thing if he just closed his eyes for a little while. No one’s here; it should be fine for just a second…

He doesn’t know how long he’s been asleep when the door to the shop suddenly slams open. Adam jolts, his spine straightening so quickly he feels a muscle in his lower back pull. He fights back the grimace of pain and replaces it with a welcoming smile as the customer walks in. “Welcome! Let me know if there’s anything I can help you with.”

The customer just glares at him, and Adam’s neck flushes bright pink with embarrassment as he tries not to make a face. Did he catch him dozing? He stares back at the customer, his smile wavering as the awkward stand-off stretches on. The weak part of Adam can’t help but notice how strangely beautiful the customer is. If one had to pick an overall adjective to describe him, it’d be sharp – sharp jawbones, sharp mouth, sharp nose, sharp eyes. He’s tall and has a buzz cut that strangely looks good on him, the little hairs still showing suggesting that they were once curly and dark. He’s attractive, in the dark and dangerous sense of the word, and Adam doesn’t know how long they stand there staring at each other (it’s ridiculous – he’s stared at boys before but not for this long) before the boy abruptly juts his chin away and stalks off down the aisle.

It’s only then that Adam notices the raven. It’s a small thing, looking barely old enough to fly as it sits on the customer’s shoulder, burrowing its body into the curve of his neck. Adam stares at the bird, wondering why it doesn’t just fly away; it doesn’t look like its wings are clipped.

Has this customer really already trained such a young bird so well?

Adam realizes he’s still staring, his eyes trailing the customer as he hesitates in front of some fresh hay and alfalfa before heading into the back area of the store where the birdseed is. He tells himself it’s just because this is the only person who has come in all day, and not because he can’t stop staring at the faintest trace of a tattoo curling out from under the customer’s raggedly cut black muscle tank.

The boy’s not even his type – he’s more for the adventurous type like Blue, not someone who looks ready to start a fight at any given second.

Just the thought of that makes him think of his dad and he cringes before finally tearing his gaze from the customer.

At least until he hears the unmistakable sound of a bag ripping and thousands upon thousands of tiny seeds cascading onto the floor. A loud shout quickly adds to the cacophony, “You motherfucking—!”

Adam stands from his stool, exasperated more than alarmed, his service dog Holly also standing from her cushion just behind the cash register, ears perked and alert. Holly’s another example of how well Adam gets along with animals: after he’d lost his hearing in one ear from a particularly hard fall due to one of his dad’s slaps, a neighbor had off-handedly commented that he should look into getting a service dog, the closest anyone in the trailer park had ever come to helping him in some way. He’d debated it for a long time, but eventually decided to get one because people snuck up so often on his deaf side that he would actually get severe anxiety attacks.

So, behind his parents’ backs, he’d looked into it. He’d sent in an application to a local agency, and after painfully dipping into a large chunk of his savings ended up with the sweetest German Shepherd puppy. The trainer had warned him that sometimes it took a while for service dogs and their owners to get accustomed to each other enough to work well, but Adam and Holly had clicked immediately. Training had only lasted five days of Adam going to the facility, too afraid to have them at home, and soon enough Holly was his.

She helps him in several ways, all having to do with his partial deafness and anxiety. She reacts and looks to things that approach or are around Adam, notifying him of something’s presence even if he can’t hear it. Whenever he has bad anxiety, she lies down on his chest and licks at his face until his breathing evens and the worst of the attack is over. She’s also technically trained to find someone who can help him when things take a turn for the worst, but even she realizes that there is no one like that in Adam’s life, besides Blue who didn’t live close enough for it to be practical, and so takes it upon herself to calm him and protect him.

She’s the best thing that has ever happened to Adam, but it made him feel bad when he had to make her sit outside at night, pretending she was just one of the neighbor dogs so his father wouldn’t get enraged and turn his beatings to her, too. He saw her as much as he could and took her with him wherever he went, but he missed her dreadfully at night when he had to nurse his own bruises and anxiety and repeat over and over to himself that everything was fine.

Everything was obviously not fine, as Holly’s very existence was proof of, but she helped him more than he could ever thank her for and now that they live together in their own apartment things are better. He still feels the anxiety grip him when he’s trying to sleep, and he never will be able to hear out of his left ear again, but she and Blue continue to support him and he’s never felt luckier. He feels like he’s able to handle more now, which is a big step up from where he was before.

Though he doesn’t think even the best service dog in the world could help him handle the mess he finds when he and Holly trot over to the back aisle of the store.

The boy from earlier is kneeling on the ground, surrounded by a ginormous pile of birdseed. The bag is still sitting on the second shelf, a giant rip in the bottom continuously raining more and more seeds onto the floor. The customer’s raven is picking at the hole, trying to catch seeds in its beak as the boy grumbles and curses and tries vainly to pick up the giant mess.

It’s obvious enough what happened. For a while Adam just stares, the weariness in his bones intensifying at the thought that he’s going to have to clean that all up. Holly leans forward to sniff at the raven, who caws in warning; Adam draws his dog back with a sharp whistle that also gets the attention of the boy.

He glances up sharply, something akin to embarrassment on his face for a split second before he neutralizes his expression. “Don’t worry about it, I’ve got it covered! Dammit, Chainsaw…”

The raven just caws at him before flapping onto his shoulder and picking at a loose thread on his shirt. Adam raises an eyebrow as the customer goes back to cursing and picking up seeds one by one. He so obviously doesn’t have it covered that it’s almost amusing. “It’s not a problem; let me just go grab a broom—”

“I didn’t ask for your help!” the boy snarls before Adam can leave, his eyes narrowed in a seemingly permanent glare. Adam narrows his eyes back.

He doesn’t know what he did, but it’s obvious the customer doesn’t like him. Maybe it’s just the way he looks; the second-hand button up that he’d washed so carefully to remove the dried blood stains, the slacks that are frayed at the bottom if one looked close enough, the shoes that have only seen better days before Adam was even born. He’s not stupid – he’d seen the BMW outside. This customer is an Aglionby boy, a rich boy who likely scoffs and looks down his nose at the likes of Adam. Even if Adam was the kindest person on Earth, which he isn’t, it wouldn’t matter, because no raven boy would ever look past anything but his poverty.

If he wasn’t so angry, he would ponder on the irony that a raven boy has an actual raven. That is apparently named Chainsaw.  

He has to physically bite his tongue to prevent himself from snapping back. He’s always been terrified of his anger, afraid that he’ll someday turn into his father, but more than anything he knows it’s inappropriate for an employee to snap at a customer and he doesn’t want to lose one of the only safe places he has. “I’m sorry, but it’s in my job description to clean up any messes. I’ll be right back.”

He doesn’t let the boy retort or even make a face at him before he turns around and storms to the back room. He tells Holly to lie down on her cushion so she won’t trouble anyone as he grabs a broom and dustpan, taking one moment to compose himself before heading out again. Unsurprisingly the mess is much how he left it, if not worse because Chainsaw has moved back to pecking at the bag and chewing at more seeds as they fall out. The customer has a pile of seeds in his hands, but he obviously doesn’t know what to do with them as he stares between them and the floor with a complicated look on his face.

“Do you think you could distract your raven with those while I clean this up?” Adam asks as politely as he’s able to as he approaches them again, nodding at the seeds in the boy’s hands. The customer glares at him, looking like he’s about to snap something back, before he just nods tightly and calls Chainsaw over to the pile of seeds in his hands.

While the raven is distracted eating, Adam grabs the mostly empty bag and tosses it into the trash before returning to sweep all the remaining seeds into the dustpan. It doesn’t take as long as he had feared, and by the time he’s done Chainsaw has eaten the remainder of the seeds and has now fluttered over to stare at a cockatoo through the bars of its cage.

The customer is staring attentively at her, as if he’s considering calling her off, and Adam for some dumb reason remembers how attractive he is. Now that he’s closer he can tell that the boy forgot to shave today, the small, coarse hairs more potently defining his sharp jawbones and chin. He has a sort of dark and wild aura to him that makes Adam’s pulse race unexplainably, and he frowns. He doesn’t know why he’s so drawn to this boy, but it bothers him. He should hate him; he’s no doubt the kind of person that throws his money around without a care in the world and laughs in the faces of people like Adam.

And yet the way he’s looking at Chainsaw right now is almost affectionate, gentle in a way that seems so against every prejudice Adam has for this boy.

He can’t figure him out.

He realizes he’s standing there for too long staring when the customer’s sharp gaze lands on him again, and he flushes as he pointedly looks elsewhere. He doesn’t know why he’s getting so worked up – it’s not like he’ll ever see this guy again. He forces himself to look at the boy’s eyes, which are so unbelievably blue that they end up being worse for his heart, and clears his throat.

“Now, are you sure there’s nothing I can help you with?” He doesn’t even bother to hide the teasing lilt of his voice.

An implausibly sharp grin etches across the boy’s features and Adam’s heart stutters a little bit. “You know, I’m usually much more competent than this. That damn bird always manages to get the better of me.”

Adam almost smiles before he catches himself and looks around, suddenly noticing a certain bird’s absence. “Where is your raven, anyway?”

“What the—?!” The customer looks around himself wildly before cursing and scrambling to his feet. “Chainsaw, you dumb shit, get back here!”

The only answer they receive is a loud, shrill squawk and Holly’s sharp barking. Eyes narrowing in barely constrained annoyance, Adam rushes back to the front, the customer hot on his heels. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but he’s suddenly irritated at the customer. Why can’t this guy control his damn baby bird, or at least hold onto her after the first disaster? If Holly is in danger in any way there’s definitely going to be a problem.

However, when he rounds the corner he finds the two animals engaged in what looks to be a one-sided game of tug of war. Chainsaw had apparently pecked at the rope of one of Holly’s chew toys and now holds onto it with her beak as Holly, her jaws clamped on the other end of the toy, drags her around the store. The dog’s haunches are lifted, a growl in the back of her throat, but Adam can tell it’s playful as her tail is wagging and she’s almost gently pulling Chainsaw, as if hoping the raven will pull back.

Adam can’t help but laugh – this is the most ridiculous thing he’s ever seen, even more so than the boy sitting in that pile of birdseed. There’s no way Chainsaw, the young raven that she is, would have any hope of being able to pull against Holly’s strength, and yet they’re both trying hard to win a game that is so obviously in Holly’s favor.

“What the hell…?” the boy mutters disbelievingly under his breath; Adam flinches away, as the customer had come up on his deaf side. He feels immediately embarrassed about it, but if the customer noticed he doesn’t say anything.

Instead, he’s walking towards Holly.  

“Hey, mutt!” The words and the shout are aggressive, and for a moment Adam thinks the boy’s going to hurt Holly rather than just calling Chainsaw. He’s about to step in to interfere and protect his dog when the customer surprises him. Getting down on his knees, the boy roughly rubs his hands along Holly’s pelt, the dog immediately dropping the toy as she barks and rolls over in happiness to give him access to her belly. Chainsaw pecks at her hard-won toy as Adam just stares, dumbfounded. This boy looked like he was about to start a fight, not lean down and give rough belly rubs to Adam’s dog.

…He just can’t figure him out.

“…Um?” he says, almost hesitant to interrupt the moment. The boy has a sharp grin on his face that’s making Adam’s insides roll and churn like he’s on a roller coaster. “Did you come in here for anything specific, or…?”

“Hey, don’t rush me okay?!” the boy shouts back, and Adam has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “It’s not like you’re doing anything useful!”

That stings a little bit more than it should and Adam bites back, “I did offer my help—”

“Okay, look!” The customer stands up abruptly and stomps back towards Adam, who steps back habitually.  To his slight annoyance, Holly is ignoring his obvious discomfort, too busy basking in post-belly rub heaven. “I’ll pay for the destroyed bag, or whatever, but I just came in here for some fucking birdseed, so you can help me by grabbing me two bags of it.”

Adam grits his teeth, hating the way the customer addresses him like a servant, but turns to head back down the aisle anyway. He has no choice, after all, as he is the employee, but he wishes that someone so unfairly attractive didn’t have to have such a terrible personality. He seems to treat animals differently, though, which Adam can’t help but feel a kinship towards. He wonders if the customer has an easier time interacting with animals than people like Adam does, and then wonders why he cares.

This raven boy doesn’t deserve the benefit of the doubt, and he certainly doesn’t deserve any sympathy from Adam.

He grabs two unbroken bags of birdseed and hauls them back to the counter where he starts ringing them up plus the spilled bag. The customer had finally gotten his bird under control, Chainsaw tucked contently in the crook of his arm again, and Adam wonders sourly why he didn’t just keep her there in the first place.

The customer tosses his credit card at Adam before he can even tell him the total price, and it irks him. He’s insanely jealous that this boy can just toss around his money without carefully counting every penny and doing the mental math in his head to make sure he can afford it like Adam does.

What he wouldn’t do to have that same kind of luxury.

Adam swipes the card, trying hard to make sure none of his irritation shows on his face. Despite his frustration at the other boy, he casually glimpses at the name on the shiny gray credit card, telling himself that it’s only because he’s curious.

Ronan Lynch.

The name alone stirs a strange fire in Adam’s blood that he ultimately doesn’t know how to address. He wants to say it out loud for no reason, but he doesn’t and instead just wordlessly hands Ronan back his card and receipt. He tries not to think about the way their fingers brush clumsily during the exchange but he does anyway, wondering why Ronan’s hands are so sweaty.

His opinion of this boy is fluctuating so much that Adam has no idea what to think.

“Hey!” Ronan practically shouts suddenly, his voice louder than Adam, who’d been spacing out, had expected.

He flinches; it’s a habit that he’s never quite been able to shake. To his surprise, though, once again Holly barely flicks an ear at the customer’s loud and rowdy behavior. Usually she is the first to snap and growl if someone comes near enough to make Adam uncomfortable, or sneaks up on his deaf side. She’s trained to watch people just as closely as Adam himself does and respond accordingly, all to keep Adam safe and in a calm state of mind.

And yet she doesn’t even raise her head from her paws as Ronan stomps closer, nor had she earlier when Ronan had walked up on his deaf side. She must still be appeased by his rough belly rubs, Adam notes irritatingly.

“…Is there anything else, sir?” Adam puts on his best customer smile, but he honestly thinks Ronan and his raven have caused enough trouble for one day, both on the store and on his mind.

The aforementioned raven flutters onto Ronan’s shoulder, pecking at the loose string on his shirt again. Adam sees a hint of a smile on the boy’s features, astonishingly, but he’s turning his head away to tuck the bags of birdseed under his arms before Adam can tell if that was even real or not. Ronan nods at him sharply, once, before he heads for the door.

“…Thanks.” And then he’s gone, rushing out the same way he rushed in.

Adam lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, reaching out to grab the counter for balance. Now Holly is at his side, whining at him as she leans her body against his legs, stabilizing him. Adam closes his eyes and counts down from ten. However, even that simple task proves difficult.

Ronan Lynch. A boy who had insulted him, yelled at him, and yet smiled fondly at his raven and spoiled Holly, who didn’t see him as a threat as she had every other person who had treated Adam in such a way.

…How very strange.

[thedaywebuiltthefort-blog]

Welcome to DnD

After something of a manic few weeks, I’ve finally had time to sit down and update the blog. What with marathon training, working on the novel, going to my actual job and playing with pygmy hedgehogs I’ve found myself unintentionally putting the blog on hold.

That isn’t to say that during that time I haven’t been ticking a few things off the list. Because I very much have. But I’m not here to write about that today, no.

Today I am here to write about a challenge that would defy everything I have come to know about my physical, mental and spiritual limitations and teach me that anything can, and will happen.

Or at least it would have, had my character not fallen asleep.

I’m talking about my very first foray into the dark and mysterious world of Dungeons and Dragons.

Now, if you don’t already know what D&D is, I would suggest looking up Critical Role. Whilst there is an absolute trove of D&D sites, books and blogs to get you up to speed, for anyone that has come to the game recently, there is a good chance that it’s all thanks to the online show.

As a writer and lifelong fantasy fan, I have always been vaguely aware of how D&D works. I’ve helped draw up character sheets, I’ve watched videos and I know that at some point there was a largely disappointing movie made based on the game. However, I’d never actually played it, until now.

Thanks to a borderline obsession with Critical Role, my husband recently started playing D&D and had tried a few different online groups. Having sat and watched him play a few times, I thought perhaps it might be time to give it a try on a one-off, non-committal basis.

After a quick chat with the DM (Dungeon Master) of his most recent group, it was agreed that I could join their current quest as a six foot tall, bald female half-elf character named Ude.

The first thing we did was run through the different aspects of the character and what she could do. My other half got me to pick out my choices for spells, cantrips, and physical attributes. Now, this I could deal with, and I’m told that I made fairly decent choices.

I did find, however, that as my other half was happily explaining in lengthy detail what each of the different choices meant, my eyes were glazing over and my brain found itself pondering whether or not birds technically have armpits, which is the sort of question my brain often asks.

I discovered very quickly that when it comes to D&D, whilst anything can and will happen during the game, before that there are an awful lot of things you need to know. Most of which I found very confusing. It eventually ended up with me saying things like ‘yeah but that one’s got a fireball, I want that one.’

With Ude’s character sheet finalised, we sent it off to DM for a quick check through. Following this and prior to the game, my husband arranged for me to have a quick chat with the DM to run through some of the finer points of the character and what we would be doing.

Unfortunately, I was under the impression that the DM wanted to speak to me.

The DM was under the impression that I wanted to speak to him.

It made for a somewhat stilted conversation as I desperately tried to think up questions and not look as unprepared as I was, whilst my other half stood in the background looking confused and whispering ‘go on then, talk...’

Fortunately, the DM turned out to be a pretty chilled out person and he managed to talk me through some of my expectations, answered my off the cuff questions and generally made me feel like a lot less of an idiot than I felt.

Several days later it was game day. I spent a few hours rearranging the kitchen, setting up various props and lighting (much to my husband’s amusement/annoyance) so that I could film the session both for reference and so I could use a few video snippets on the blog.

Despite his reservations about both my skills in cinematography and furniture moving, my husband did dutifully create me a camera holder for my phone using the best cardboard box and masking tape that money can buy.*

*This later turned out to be pointless as the video wasn’t even of good enough quality to edit, much less bother publishing. I will state just for the record that the kitchen however remains rearranged because it looks better now.

As is normal with any social event (albeit online), about an hour before we start I’m hit with a wave of nerves which only seem to increase as we get set up.

I’m nervous about meeting new people in any capacity. This is largely based on previous experience and my natural talent for looking and sounding like a bit of a weirdo around strangers.

I remedy this with the liberal application of wine from the shop over the road.

Just before we get started, I have a quick chat with the DM.

As I’m joining part way through the campaign there are a few things I need to know about the setting, where the party is heading and what they do and don’t know at this point.

He tells me a few things and all of a sudden it all feels a little bit espionage-esque, like my laptop will self destruct thirty seconds after receiving all of the pertinent information.

I’m not entirely sure how much, if anything, of what I’m told I am meant to reveal however it doesn’t matter as I instantly forget everything I’ve just been told.

The game starts and I spend the first few minutes just trying to get a grasp of the other characters and what they’re doing. As my character is a guest on this session I don’t actually get introduced until a little while in.

At this early point, I encounter my first hurdle. I can recognise the DM’s voice and I can pick out the only other female in the group, but other than that I have no idea who is talking when. This makes it hard for me to track which characters are where. We also had several problems with internet connection and lost the sound feed a couple of times. This meant that there were a few occasions where I missed large chunks of the conversation.

So before my character even gets to put in an appearance, I’m sweating with nerves and completely lost, almost to the point of thinking it would be better if I just bowed out gracefully with my dignity in tact.

The thing about D&D - and especially the worlds that it creates - is that this is not just a board game that you whip out and play off the cuff.

This is hours of planning, creation and prep work for the DM.

People get emotionally invested in the story and their characters. I don’t want to be the idiot that comes in and accidentally kills everyone by launching an inadvertent fireball at them.

Eventually, my character is introduced. I summon up all of my courage and prepare to reel off the detailed description of Ude and her personality that I have spent the past few weeks preparing.

But I don’t.

Instead, my character sidles up to the only other female character and stands there, looking awkward and generally being closer than it is necessary to be to someone you’ve just met. So pretty much mirroring my normal reaction to this situation in the real world.

Now I’m going, to be honest – I don’t remember a whole lot of what was going on at this point. I wanted to be as engaged in the campaign as possible but really I was just having trouble keeping up.

I also wasn’t sure what I could and couldn’t do, despite my husband’s constant reassurances that my character can pretty much attempt to do anything (although any actions will have varying degrees of success).

I think at one point I actually said ‘Ude is going to suggest that she might possibly have something to say’ before waiting for permission to say what it was she wanted to say and still not being one hundred percent confident I should have said anything at all.

I knew the party was required to fetch a black orchid from the jungle, for reasons that have since escaped me, and saw this as my first opportunity to utilize one of my amazing character attributes.

I offered to turn into a dire wolf so that I could run really fast and go fetch it.

The plan didn’t actually work out, so sadly for me, I didn’t get to show off my wolfy prowess, but I was duly told by my husband that this had been a good suggestion.

Lack of wolfiness aside, the party set out to find the black orchid having spent the earlier part of the game flicking between sourcing information from the bird people (https://www.dndbeyond.com/races/aarakocra) who resided in the mountain village we had just visited, and making humorous digs at the bard (who seemed to inexplicably have a lot of musical instruments).

Just as I start to feel like I’m starting to hit my stride and get into it, the party is attacked by a tiger hybrid. As the other members of the party start to take their turns, I revel in the fact that finally, my character can do something cool and awesome!

I will save the day and everyone will love me! I mean Ude!

My turn rolls (no pun intended) around and having quickly refreshed myself on the various powers and spells I can use (tangling vines, woo yeah, firebolt, woo yeah, big magic stick, woo yeah) get ready to do a battle like a badass heroine.

Then my character falls asleep.

I’m not sure how or why, but once again D&D feels strangely relatable. Weeks spent worrying and stressing over a big event only to inevitably sleep through it all and miss it.

The group put in a good show and once Ude eventually wakes up she does get to use some of her healing powers to patch up a couple of players who fell afoul of a few well-aimed tiger beast strikes. Personally, I’m just happy that a) nobody has died and b) I didn’t accidentally kill them.

As we come to the end of the session, I actually find myself finally feeling a little more relaxed. I now have a sort of understanding who is playing who and which characters bring what to the group. There is a little bit of post-game chat which seems to mostly be the other members of the group reading out the list of tasks I have to complete from the blog with a mixture of amusement and confusion.

Despite their reservations at some of the tasks (in particular the ones that my niece came up with), they’re a group of funny, engaging and welcoming people.

There are not many places you can go where people are genuinely intrigued by the idea of farting in public as a challenge. Apparently, that isn’t the case in the world of Dungeons and Dragons.

I’d like to have been able to give a more detailed account of the gameplay itself and what happened; unfortunately, the truth is I still haven’t quite worked out about eighty percent of it.

The only way I’m going to remedy that is by trying again, which I intend to do.

D&D isn’t just a game that you can pick up and play – there are worlds within worlds and a lot to learn. Did I have fun? Yes, I did. Do I think I was any good? Absolutely not, I was a whisper away from completely useless.

I guess Ude is just going to have to put in another appearance.

You know, for research purposes.